The Second Annual Most Witless-Looking Cat Competition

How intelligent are cats, really, when it comes right down to it? As I've often said, my own seem to cover the entire spectrum from scheming masterminds to out and out dunces. I don't feel that the former need any encouragement in their gradual takeover of the world, so I have no plans to run a Brainiest Cat Competition, but I am now opening entries for the second annual Most Witless Cat Comp. For those who want to get an idea of what it's about, check out
last year's winners.

The rules are the same as usual: post your picture on Facebook (preferable) or send it to underthepaw@tom-cox.com either with or without supporting account of witless feats. Cats who entered last year are banned, unless they have attained new standards of witlessness in the interim. Prizes will include a signed copy of Under The Paw for each of the three top entries. Entries close on June 16th.

Library Cats: About Time They Came To The UK?

I've been to lots of bookshops with resident cats, but am yet to visit a library with its own moggy. Nobody in America seemed to think it was particularly unusual that Dewey, the bestselling literary cat of the last year, lived in a library. But in Britain, the idea of a library with a cat would still be very strange: maybe not quite as odd as a Citizen's Advice Bureau with its own iguana, but not far off. I can, in a way, see the reasoning behind the reticence. Nobody really wants their large print Maeve Binchys weed and puked on. If I, for example, were to drop Shipley off at my largest local library, in Norwich, it would only be a matter of time before he'd located their copy of Under The Paw, and started his own destructive, fangy critique of it. Pretty soon, someone would have called the pest people in or chased him into the local Pizza Express, and all hell would have broken loose. But on the whole I think Britain needs to get with the times, when it comes to bibliocats. Who knows? Perhaps it already has? There must be one library cat in the UK and, if anyone has any information about it, I'd like to hear about it. As it is, this list of top library mogs remains entirely US-orientated.

I Wish I Could Learn How To Do This To Shipley When He Is Acting Up

Frozen Cat

Stunned & Frozen Cat ! - Click here for more amazing videos

Fake Tans: How To Tell Them From The Real Thing

On their recent holiday, my parents took the above and below photos of a black cat they came across. I find that, with them, things like this happen more and more often: they say they're not massively fussed about cats these days, but it's really just a front they put on in the crooked belief that it will be a deciding factor in pulling me back from the brink of getting even more cats than I already have. In reality, they're always off on some adventure, and returning from it with photos like the two here. They call these adventures "walks" but from what I can work out they're essentially moggy-finding missions in disguise. Huge, previously untamable whiskery beasts will just mysteriously "appear" and clamber on top of my dad's back as he sleeps on a remote Derbyshire hillside. My mum will walk down a green lane and suddenly find a needy tabby at her heel. Personally, I don't know why the pair of them don't stop skirting the issue and just go ahead and get another cat to finally replace The Slink, but I suppose they're happy in their denial, and that's the important thing.

Anyway, my mum was telling me about how nice this cat was. "And of course it had that tan that some cats have," she added.

"What do you mean?" I asked

"You know, that cat tan. You can see it there - the ginger bits on the black."

"But surely that's just a black cat with a few bits of ginger on its fur."

"No, no. That's tan. It's obviously very keen on lounging in the sun, and that's why it's got it."

"But how do you know?"

"Oh, you can just tell. It obviously didn't have that colour in its fur originally."

I've done some research on this, and while it's led me to find a few cat forums where people are talking about buying special suntan lotion for cats, they seem to be referring to be stuff to put on their cat's skin, and not their fur. Then again, as my mum pointed out as our discussion continued, human hair changes colour with lots of exposure to the sun. But Shipley spends a huge amount of time basking outdoors in hot weather, and the only difference between his black fur now and his black fur when Dee and I first got him eight and a half years ago is that it is flecked with a few more streaks of grey.

I'm not entirely convinced by my mum's theory, but I'd be interested to hear anyone else's experience of cat tanning. If it is a genuine, common phenomenon, it might also explain exactly why Ralph starts to get so sensitive at this time of the year and invariably heads off to hide in one of his favourite bits of foliage. Maybe he doesn't have a special summer version of Seasonal Affective Disorder after all. I mean, I knew he was vain. But could it be that he's also a spiritual goth, and simply keen to keep his immaculate (and, to be quite honest - though I would never tell him this - not remotely goth in the first place) fur from harm?

True Tails Of Feline Life: A New Occasional Series

A lot of people have sent me heart-rending or unusual stories about their cats, or cats that have passed through their lives, since I started writing this blog, and I recently decided it might be nice to feature one every couple of weeks or so - a kind of feline-themed version of this book. I don't see these stories as having to be great pieces of prose - although if they are... great! - just simply written little anecdotes about the unusual ways cats can make your life better, or about downright weird episodes with a cat at their centre, that will appear unedited by me. I can't promise I'll include or have time to respond to what you send, but I'll do my best to have a read. The best way to submit is either - and this is preferable method - by friending my cat Janet on Facebook (see link on the left of the blog) and sending him a message or by emailing underthepaw@tom-cox.com. I think the first story below, from Under The Paw reader Rose Cooney, is a good guide in terms of length and feel...

"I'm in Brighton for work and missing my feline friends who are being well cared for by my neighbours ... but yesterday I witnessed a wonderful thing. I saw a cat in a carry basket and 3 women crouched down looking at the big, frightened tabby and white cat within.

The girl with her hand on the basket had been crying and was telling the cat - Brownie - that she was so sorry she "had to do this to" her. I asked what. The other women said a vet was going to put Brownie to sleep as she is 14 years old.

The girl with the basket wasn't Brownie's owner. She came from Birmingham and had found a new home for her own cat there because she knew she would be unable to bring her feline friend to Brighton and look after her while she is here.

Brownie's male owner had moved out 3 weeks ago and not been in touch, answered emails or calls or text messages when this girl had asked when are you coming to collect Brownie to take her to her new home? The girl had carried on looking after Brownie, including helping Brownie to lose weight by making sure her meals were right for her. She told the other women that Brownie had lost some weight - perhaps pining for the owner who abandoned her.

So, the girl in desperation for Brownie to have a new home where she would be looked after and doted on had visited a local veterinary surgery. The tears came when the vet had said because of Brownie's 14 years, they would choose to put her to sleep instead of trying to find her a new home. The girl was so upset and shocked at this vet's suggested action that she had left the surgery and was wondering the streets in flood of tears with Brownie in the carry basket. So this was how the other two women had met up with her - strangers on the streets - asking why she was crying.

By the time I happened upon them, one of the two women had said she had a cat about the same age as Brownie and would be happy to give Brownie a loving home for the rest of her days.

The girl was so relieved and as they told me the story above, I tickled Brownie under her chin as she sat alert, pining and lost in the basket. Soon as I continued to tickle and sroke to her telling her how beautiful she was, her plaintive meows ceased and turned to happy purrs as she rubbed her face against my hand.

I would have been quite happy to take Brownie with me too but with another night in Brighton in a hotel it wasn't my turn to help this abandoned soul ... so the girl and the woman rehoming Brownie exchanged contact details and I gave them both my card asking them to let me know how Brownie settled in to her new home with the woman and if the girl ever heard from her former flatmate who had abandoned Brownie so callously." - Rose

Charlie The Spider Cat

I always thought it was a bit remarkable the way The Bear, despite being arthritic and struggling to jump up to my kitchen worktop, could scale the six foot fence outside my house. However, it seems a bit less so now I've seen Charlie, the ginger and white cat from Falkirk who is making a name for himself owing to his ability to scale a thirteen foot rough cast wall.